


The Lion and the Lady

by BittersweetDreamer



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-06
Updated: 2016-01-13
Packaged: 2018-04-19 09:47:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,072
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4741760
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BittersweetDreamer/pseuds/BittersweetDreamer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"I was stupid to believe he would ever love me. Let alone more than her."</p><p>Set after season five. Should have more chapters coming up soon!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoy, please leave comments and kudos!

Chapter One

"Sansa please, don't" the last word falters on Jaime's lips as I slip in beside him on the half-rotted floor. 

It was the third night we had spent at Cotter's castle, a musty inn that was a castle only in name. It was located someplace south of winterfell, north of the neck, and impossibly cold. Jaime, still a knight in everything but name, had determined it the honorable thing to rest on the floor beside the hay bed I had claimed as my own for the first two nights. 

He and I had been traveling for nearly three moons. By the end of the first I realized what it was like to feel something good again and by the middle of the second I realized that I had more than just glimpses of happiness with Jaime. I had fallen in love with him. An emotion I thought would never find me again. 

Lady's death taught me what it was to mourn. My fathers showed me what it was like to suffer. And after Robb and my mothers death I learned what it's like to lose faith and feel as though I would never feel anything again. 

That was until Ramsay. Ramsay gave me nothing but pain and the desire of mercy. He taught me how to pray again. Not for salvation but the finality of life. Of his. Of my own. It didn't matter. 

I was begging the stranger to let the pain end when Jaime found me, wrapping me in a cloak. With ice coating my hair and a broken hymn on my lips. He held tight to me while I pounded on his chest. 

"Why did you come? The winter was about to blow me away" I said collapsing against him. "Why didn't you come sooner?" Jaime's sullen expression was the last thing I remembered. 

I slept for five days.   
I woke up under a makeshift tent and a small fire, it was nearing dawn. Jaime was sitting to the left of me. He awoke to my stirring and with a throaty rasp I asked him why. Why did he come for me? Why did he want to save me? 

He gave me a small, sad smile. And said that we were going to save each other. It was a simple answer. But the only one he gave. 

We barely spoke for the first moon. It was finding the abandoned cask of arbor gold that loosened our tongues and allowed us to share words not based off my empty courtesies or his careless wit. 

"What did you mean when you said we were going to save each other?" I found myself asking. We were sitting across from one another, sharing a cup of wine and a hare Jaime had caught earlier that day. It was the nicest meal we'd had in weeks. And the only one we'd had in days. 

Jaime's eyes locked on mine and then flitted toward the solitary window of the room. We had found an abandoned cabin a few miles west of the kingsroad and had decided to stay until the storm settled down. Until the winter ended.  Until we decided where to go if we by chance survived it. 

"I promised your mother I would find you. That I would save you. And that I would protect you" he said. Taking a sip from the cup. "I didn't mean it at first, when I gave her my word. I just wanted to be home. I wanted to be back at Kings landing. I wanted to be with Ce-" he cut himself off. I couldn't tell if it was from shame or the mystery of her wellbeing. News rarely met our ears. But each new voice we'd cross brought different tidings concerning the queen regent; the fallen lion. The dead one depending on who you asked. 

"You can talk about her" I said without thought. Jaime looked at me surprised. "I mean, it's okay if you want too". I finished. Confused by my sudden onset of empathy. Empathy for a woman I had once admired, soon loathed, and ultimately pitied. Jaime's gaze fell back to the window and the uncomfortable silence ended. Jaime continued explaining, but he didn't return to her name. 

"I thought that I would be able to forget it. The promise. But I couldn't." Jaime sighed rubbing his temple and refilling the wine. "Finding you was more than just keeping my word. It was about becoming someone I had always wanted to be. Someone that I could have been. Someone that I wasn't.  A good knight. A person worthy of even offering you protection." He sipped the wine again and rubbed at his mouth. "Keeping my oath had become this intangible" he took a sharp intake of air and continued. "This almost intangible yet somehow attainable thing, this thing that if I tried hard enough for, could turn my life into something other than the joke it had become. It meant even more than-more than being with Cersei" he said handing me the cup. "Sansa stark you are my last chance of honor. You are saving me without even knowing it". He finished. Offering me the same, sad smile he had given me when first proposing that we would save each other. 

I sipped the wine and a redness the color of my hair crept on my cheeks. If I had been the same naive girl of one and ten, the same girl who saw Jaime Lannister as he rode through the gates of winterfell, it would have been a blush. 

But I was no longer her, I wasn't a 'little dove', I wasn't an idealistic maiden. I was a woman of six and ten hardened by loss and surviving because even death didn't want me. I spoke the next few words without thinking. 

"You ser, are quite naive" I stated, void of emotion. I filled more wine and drank, while Jaime looked at me, not quite understanding where I was heading. "You were late Jaime. I mean you saved me from freezing to death. But that that is all. You didn't save me from losing a father. You didn't save me from losing all my siblings and mother. And you didn't save me from, from" I stuttered. I had never talked of Ramsay out loud. He preoccupied to many of my thoughts as it was. "You didn't save me from being raped and brutalized" I concluded hard as steel, not shedding a single tear. It was Jaime that had a glassy film on his green by the end of a confession fueled by loneliness and catalyzed by alcohol. 

"I'm sorry" was all Jaime said staring at me. He looked to be contemplating on what else to add. I rose from where I was sitting, before he had the chance and sat in front of him, our breaths mingled in the cold air and the space separating us composed of a few mere inches.  

"Don't be." I say, grasping his golden hand. He flinches at the sudden touch but then settles, taking a loose strand of my hair with his left hand and twirling it between his fingers. "You're not going to save me Jaime. And I'm not going to save you. But I do think that in time. We can learn to become the people that we want to be. That we can learn to make each other happy". I kissed him on the cheek before curling up to his side and drifting to sleep. 

Four days later a tree fell on the cabin, destroying it entirely. We had no shelter once again and headed further south. We didn't discuss that night much after but the dynamic of our days changed. We told stories and jokes while hunting, never discussed but subtlety exchanged glances while bathing, and shared touches when sleeping. It had been over a fortnight when he brought up our night of novel conversation and drunk revelations.  

"How are you still so good, after everything. After Ramsay" Jaime asks me. It's completely dark outside, aside from a light falling snow, and I'm curled up in front of him. His breath hot on my neck.  

"Honestly" I say, turning to face him. His eyes are half-closed but I know he's listening. "Some days I don't think I'm good. But it's more than just ramsay." I say. I position my head beneath his chin and he presses a gentle kiss to my crown of red curls. 

"Tell me about it" 

"After winterfell it seemed I never experienced a genuine happy moment. I thought there were maybe some with Joffrey-" I soon quiet. Unsure of how to proceed. 

"I know what you're thinking, but he was never a true son to me" that's the closest Jaime has even been at admitting to be his father. "Please keep going."

"When I met Joffrey I thought life made sense. That everything would fall in place. He was my true prince, a golden prince and I would someday bear him golden children. But then, my father-"

"Your father found out that Joffrey was no true prince. Only a golden bastard"

"Well yes. I didn't know it at the time. That you were his...I simply thought my father was making a wrong decision. I grew up being told I was a proper lady and proper ladies know the right decision. So I found myself searching for another proper lady to help me in convincing my father that leaving was wrong. But-"

"My sister is no proper lady, Sansa. And I'm sorry for what she did. Or more what she didn't do" Jaime finished. Finding a loose strand of my hair to play with. He did this nearly every night, even in his sleep. It wasn't a romantic or intimate touch. It felt like one that must bring him comfort. I sometimes imagine him as a young boy of six, the age Rickon was when I last saw him, with golden curls and bright eyes, stealing into his mothers room before the maids enter to simply curl against her, to feel her warmth and play with her hair. Jaime's voice brings me back to our conversation. "Keep going"

"Well-" I say taking a few breaths. "I have never forgiven myself for betraying my father that day. And sometimes I thought I deserved being hurt. After my father had his-" I stop,  a lump in my throat forming and a sting in my nostrils warning that tears might come. I couldn't remember the last time I cried or the last time I allowed myself to be this vulnerable. I swallowed and continue. "After what happened to my father I thought I deserved the punishment from Joffrey. That the cruel words he spoke to me, the beatings he gave to me, the threats that he would ruin me were what I deserved. All I could do was pray that robb would find me." I sigh. "I prayed that he would give you back in order to have me." Jaime has moved his fingers from my hair and onto my back. "But he never did. And sometimes I thought I was still being punished by the gods. That my family wouldn't want me after realizing I was the one to blame for my father." I say, wiping away the wetness I hadn't realized accumulated beneath my eyes. "Even though I hated myself I still tried to do my duty. Tried be a lady. It was all I knew, what I had grown up learning. I'm sure your sister thought I was a stupid little girl, but I was just trying survive Jaime. Being a lady was my best option. Not only to survive but to find love and happiness. To find that stories weren't all lies. Looking back now maybe you're sister was right. I was just a stupid little girl". I can feel Jaime shake his head above me and his strokes on my back continue with stronger touches. "It wasn't until after the red wedding that I realized I wasn't being punished. I was being mocked. And after Ramsay, I realized I was never going to be happy again." I say closing my eyes, Jaime pushes on my back, pressing for me to talk more. So I open my eyes back up and continue. "It sounds so silly to say, but Ramsay took away the last thing I was able to hold onto. He took it and destroyed it. And it was as though he destroyed the last good thing about me. The last innocent thing about me. The last tie I had of being a stark". 

"You know that's not true" Jaime speaks up for the first time all night. "Just because you're no longer a maiden doesn't mean you're not a stark. That you'll never be happy again.  Sansa you will always be a stark. You will always deserve the right to be happy." The snows have picked up and Jaime pulls me closer to him. 

"I'm realizing that now I think." I say pressing my cheek against his chest. "You asked me why I'm still good. And I think that now it's because of you, the way you see me" I say. I look up and notice he's staring right at me. "I was right that night in the cabin. You're making me happy again. I didn't think that was possible."

"You're good Sansa. All on your own. You're more than I could ever be" suddenly Jaime's eyes look distant. And he mutters something about 'the things he does for love'. His expression is pained, as if recalling a memory that he didn't want to remember. When he looks back at me there's a sense of guilt in his eyes. 

"I don't blame you for any of this, you know that right? I don't blame you for being with Cersei. Doing anything to return to her." I say, assuming that the memory of her is what's caused his uneasiness and confounded stare. "And I'm glad you were. Because I like who you are and I feel like she had some part in that. I like you Jaime". At my final words Jaime's expression softens but the uneasiness doesn't fully go away. I touch his neck delicately to release the rest of the tension. "I understand why she loved you too. And I can't blame her." There's a scar on his neck and I kiss it. Jaime tenses but doesn't stop me. I drag my finger down to trace the rest of it. 

Despite being cold outside I pull Jaime's tunic off and leave his chest exposed to the frigid northern air. The scar I traced ends above his sternum but there are dozens of other marks that cover nearly half his torso. Despite the temperament and his age Jaime has bronze skin and muscles in his abdomen that even Loras tyrell couldn't match. I stroke each scar with my index finger. "I couldn't imagine being cersei and not loving you. Not wanting to kiss you there" I say gently pressing a soft kiss on the left side of Jaime's chest, right above his heart. Jaime sighs a name but I'm not sure whose it belongs too. The sole woman he's loved the last thirty five years or the girl who provides him with sad stories, a compliant mouth, and a purpose. 

I didn't notice my fingers pass his torso until I feel his own hands still mine. They're resting on half untied laces and the name he whispers to stop is definitely my own. 

I turn away from him embarrassed. It may be true that finding me meant more than the relationship he had with Cersei. But I was stupid to believe that he would ever love me. Let alone more than her.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And the last thought I have as I fall asleep, was if he could tell I was lying.

Chapter Two 

“Sansa” He says my name again as my hand makes contact with his neck.

“I’m cold” I lie. Rubbing my hands against the skin of his bare chest. It was the first time I had tried to lay with him after that night. I’d spent most nights ashamed of my feelings, of my actions, and had quickly decided it was best to sleep apart. He had eventually agreed with me. Although, at first he said I was acting stupid, that what had happened was out of loneliness and that it didn’t mean anything, but that’s when I knew I had been right to suggest the separation of contact. Because those few touches, the softness of his skin pulsating beneath me, was everything. It was what reminded me I was alive.

I had spent the following weeks conjuring memories of Winterfell to aid in the bleakness that filled my nights, but the past only reminded me that ghosts were left, and I felt as lonely as ever. There were other nights when Ramsay’s fists and teeth filled my nightmares, but Jaime always awoke me and remained awake, sitting a few feet beside me, until I’d drift back into an untroubled sleep. There was one dream in particular, where Jaime hadn’t pushed me away that night, where he clung to me, pulled off my shift and kissed my scars as I had done with him. I woke up close to dawn, sweaty and panting, Jaime was by my side immediately, fussing over my reddened cheeks and how I must be getting ill from the cold. He tried to touch my forehead with his palm but I shied away embarrassedly. I couldn’t look him in the eye for the entire day. Everytime I tried, I remembered the way his eyes looked up at me in my dream, from in between my legs. 

Because of that day, he decided we should stay at inns when they were available. He couldn’t risk me getting sick and leaving him alone. Or that’s the excuse he gave when we found Cotter’s Castle a few days after. Ultimately, I was glad to stay inside, I was never one to take on the outdoors like Arya. I thought about that when I climbed onto my bed the first night. I dreamt about the snowball fights we would have in the yard outside of home, and how I wished I could see her once more, to hold her dirty face between my hands and tell her I love her and that I was sorry. The next night I dreamt I’d found Nymeria, and it was though I had found a piece of Arya too. When I awoke the next day I had never felt so hopeful. 

“You look chipper” Jaime says, entering the room with a basket of bread, a pitcher of honeyed milk, and a small case of mulled wine. 

"And you look like you’re stealing” I say, grabbing a piece of bread and biting into it.

“Not stealing. I won a bet off a man last night, after you went to sleep of course” Jaime replies with a smirk. Drinking the wine straight from the source.

“And what was that?” I ask, pouring a glass of milk. 

“ That I could beat him in a game of Cyvasse” 

“You are terrible at Cyvasse” I say, raising my eyebrows.

“My lady, first off that is not true, and secondly how would you even kn-“

“Tyrion told me” I reply laughing, and taking another bite of the roll. “I’ve heard quite a few things about you, from people who-” I stop to finish chewing “know you”. Jaime has stood up to change his shirt and I look away to distract myself from the effortlessly fluid way he moves.

“Oh, what else do you know. Please indulge the poor Cyvasse player over here”. He says, rejoining me at the small two person table. 

“Well I heard you were good at stealing” I retort and Jaime feigns hurt, pulling what should be a hand up to his chest, but there’s a playful gleam in his green eyes. 

“Fine, I stole it” he says with a laugh, grabbing a chunk of the roll in my hand. 

“Hey, that’s mine” I chuckle out, reaching across the table to grab it from him. In my attempt I fall onto him, and before I stand back up he brushes a rogue curl from face.

“You really do look happy today.” He says with a slow smile “It suits you”. The moment ends when he pushes me up from his lap and tells me to get dressed. He spends most the day taking up the little bit of work he can to afford our board, discarding his gold hand in the case someone were to recognize it. I spend most the day reading the single book available and mending the two shirts Jaime owns. He’s back in our room by nine, exhausted from the days work, and shares a quiet dinner with me before he falls asleep on the floor. I tell him to take my bed for the night. That I’m not tired and that he’s the one who worked all day. He rolls his eyes at me one time before sleep overtakes him and he collapses on the rotten wood.

By the time I finish the book, nearly all the candles are out and I have to step over Jaime’s sprawled form to slip into my bed. I lie restless, switching positions, contemplating the luck of good dreams I’d had and the way Jaime’s fingers felt twisted in my hair. I missed the way it had felt. I missed the way he had felt. I get out of my bed, wearing the thinner of my two shifts. Despite being cold outside, I was left overheated in the warmth of the inn, the Stark blood circulating through me and making me warm to the touch. He stirs when the bed creaks, and begs me not too when I lift the solitary blanket and sidle up close to him. He says my name again when I make contact with his skin. He’s even warmer than me.

“You’re not cold” He says, moving his hands onto mine.

“Yes I am” I say, shyly looking away from him. It took all the courage I had to get on the floor beside him, now there’s none left.

“Well, you don’t feel cold” he says, moving my hand up to his cheek.

“Well I am” I say, raising my gaze to find he is already staring at me. I’m about to get up, leave, and curse myself for trying this a second time when Jaime smirks. 

“I also know you are a terrible liar”

“How would you even know that?” I ask, taking my hand from his.

“Tyrion told me” He says grabbing my hand back and pulling it into his chest. “I’ve heard quite a few things about you from people who-“ he stops, mimicking my actions from earlier. “Know you” He finishes with a laugh and I playfully hit him.

“And what else do you know?” I ask and his hand is hovering over my waist as we lie facing one another.

“I know you’re good at singing” He replies honestly.

“Another thing Tyrion told you” I respond with a sweet smile. Jaime’s eyes are resting on my lips, and then he lifts his left index finger to part them. 

“I’ve heard you” he says, tracing my bottom lip. “You sing when you sew, and when you eat, and-“ he pauses, and I smile at him as he is looking deep in thought, his hands have returned to his own body. “when you act like a pain in my ass” he finishes and I widen my eyes at him and playfully push him. He pulls me on top of him and there’s that moment. He can either kiss me or turn me away. I know which one he’ll choose but before he can it’s my turn to place my finger on his lips.

“Please don’t say anything”. I beg, rolling off of him and to his right. “I miss the way it felt to sleep beside you. I don’t wan’t to try anything. I promise.” I finish, searching his eyes, scared he might still turn me away, but finally he nods. I place myself in front of him, and I feel his nose burrow into the crook of my neck. And the last thought I have as I fall asleep, was if he could tell I was lying.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it's taken so long, but here's the new chapter! I had a really hard workload last semester but I really hope everyone enjoys the update. Please leave comments and kudos.
> 
> Also, I will be uploading more chapters! Hopefully sooner than this one ended up being. Thanks to everyone who is reading it!


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